


Where I told you to run

by captainofthegreenpeas



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Separation, movie!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:46:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainofthegreenpeas/pseuds/captainofthegreenpeas
Summary: Fulvia and the prep team are missing. Plutarch tries to figure out where they could have gone.





	Where I told you to run

**Author's Note:**

> So basically fulvia and the prep team aren’t in MJ movies at all so I decided to write some movie verse headcanon… their ultimate fate I leave to you

The Capitol seal concluded the rollcall; and the screen went black.

  
Plutarch blinked. In his mind, he flicked through the portraits that he had just seen even though he knew nothing would change upon remembering it. She was not there. Just as she had not been there yesterday, or the day before, or last week, or last month.   
_Just tell me,_ he thought. _If she’s dead, there’s nothing I can do anyway._

He sat down to process the possibilities, as if he might deduce something he had failed to deduce the last hundred times he had sat down to process the possibilities.

  
 _Begin with what you know_ , he reminded himself. You know that Fulvia was supposed to abduct Katniss’ prep team and bring them to Thirteen. You know that the last time you saw her was the morning of the quell. You know that Cinna was seized and killed to intimidate Katniss. You know that if Fulvia had been arrested before the forcefield blew out, you would have heard. Snow would hardly seize the Head Gamemaker’s assistant without confronting him about it.

  
You know that Fulvia could have defected, but if she had, why would she wait until after the forcefield had blown? And if she had defected before that midnight, Snow would have acted immediately and without warning. Everyone would be imperilled. So she could not have defected. That, at least, he could be sure about.

  
You know that the prep teams for every tribute in the quell were executed on national television. You saw it with your own eyes. Except one. Why was Katniss’ team missing? Why would Snow not publicly execute the prep team of the queen of traitors, the Mockingjay? Unless, he did not have them. 

  
If Venia, Flavius and Octavia had disappeared, Fulvia could well have disappeared with them.

  
But where…

  
If whatever caused her to flee had happened more than an hour before midnight, she could have smuggled herself onto an outbound train, disembarked at the outskirts of the city, then crossed the mountains on foot… where? East, to District One? South, to Two?  That was the closest district, but the most hostile, the most militaristic. They would have avoided Two, if they could. West, to Four? South-west, to Five? North, to Seven? If they had travelled to any of those districts, the journey could have killed them all, or they could have been killed upon arrival, in a bombing raid or in the crossfire. Escape did not mean immortality.

  
“I’m looking for a quartet of travellers,” he had begun, to the rebel leaders of One, Two, Four, Five and Seven. He assumed they would have stuck together.  "One man and three women, all under the age of thirty. Their voices are probably quite strange-sounding.“

He did not doubt that they would all struggle to mask their strong Capitol accents. "One woman has flowers on her face and a lisp. Another has auburn hair. The third woman is pale and very tall, but her companions are small. The man wouldn’t say boo to a goose.”

He dared not mention them by name, nor give too detailed a description. Any hair dye or skin dye or false nails they wore would have soon gone. Besides, the first thing they would do would be to change their names. None of them had been declared missing by the Capitol. That could mean that Snow thought them all to be in Thirteen and thus didn’t bother looking. That mistake could keep them safe. But if word got out that the rebels didn’t have them, that the rebels were looking for them, that they were up for the taking… Snow had Peeta. He had emotional leverage over Katniss already, would he feel he needed more? Her prep team might no longer be worth the effort it would take to find them. But Fulvia… he knew Fulvia, by name if not by face. Regardless of how much emotional leverage he thought she might have, only an idiot would doubt her allegiance now. The Head Gamemaker’s secretary of the past four years would be worth the effort. The mention of her name would have Dr Tiberius reaching for the electrodes.

  
The response from the rebel leaders had been identical. “No names AND no pictures? And that’s all the information we get?  That’s bad enough in peacetime. You try record-keeping under fire. We pull disintegrated bodies out of buildings daily. For all we know your travellers could have died a hundred times over.”

  
She might have chosen not to leave. Fulvia was no stranger to life on the streets of the Capitol, or life beneath them. She could be hiding in an abandoned pipeline, or down an alleyway, or in the airing cupboard of a rebel safe house. There was a chance that she was alive and better still, safe. Ish. _But there’s no way I can contact my operatives in the Capitol…_

  
Some of them would say nothing even if he could. Snow was hunting them down in the city. Sometimes he even found genuine rebels and they too walked the path to execution on Capitol Hill.

  
If they had ever hidden Fulvia, she had gone before they were discovered.

  
She could be anywhere, doing anything, disguised as anyone.

  
Or perhaps Snow really did have her; and was just letting him guess. Perhaps that was why the four weren’t on the lists of the missing, why their faces weren’t spotted on the gallows. If he had them, he wouldn’t need to look. And it would take seconds to murder them all.

Perhaps she was dying right now. Alone. Afraid. Hundreds of miles west, hundreds of metres above or below. Perhaps she had died last week, screamed herself to death just when he was laughing at Haymitch and Effie.  While he was having lunch, she could have died, or in the middle of yesterday’s meeting, just like that and he never knew. Maybe she would die imprisoned, tonight, in a puddle of tears and blood, surrounded by the tormented but utterly alone,  praying for it all to end, wishing he was with her, wishing anyone would help her; and make the pain stop.

Maybe she was cursing the pain and cursing him at the same time that he was fast asleep in a pitch dark compartment in Thirteen. Perhaps she had died just now, this minute, while he was thinking all of this.

But maybe she wasn’t. The odd were all even. The chance she had been killed looked just as likely as the chance she had not. A coin toss could decide it. Maybe she was looking at the stars, outside or through a skylight- was it currently day or night, in the Capitol? Maybe she was wondering what he was doing, what he was thinking right now, just as he was thinking about her. Maybe she hated him. Maybe he would spend the rest of his life in this game, trying to think his way out.

 

 _My better half is torn away_ , Plutarch thought. He did not like the way that he had changed, since she had disappeared. _This revolution is all that I have and it takes all that I have_. Effie had joined the team since and she was a surprisingly beneficial addition, but Effie… was like the moon. However much the moon was worthy of respect and admiration, however much you were glad the moon was there… the moon could never be expected to give you daylight.

 _Fulvia,_ he thought. _Don’t let me die in the dark._

  
 _Perhaps I will see her tomorrow_ , he thought. _Perhaps those feet will tiptoe up the steps to the gallows and stop. Or perhaps I will never see her again._


End file.
